Dan Wayne, Captain, United States Cavalry, Retired, straightened his cravat, then slipped into his jacket. He checked his reflection in the hallway mirror of his spacious Dallas, Texas home. After adjusting the carnation in his lapel, he took another look. Dan liked what he saw.
Six months of sobriety had taken the puffiness out of his face, turning its former pallor healthy pink. Dan Wayne looked a hell of a lot healthier than he had in at least ten years. Particularly those final ones spent at Fort Alexander as an alcoholic company commander with more interest in the bottle than his soldiers.
Much had happened to the old soldier since his retirement from the army a bit over a year previously. He’d gone into a land development business with his brother in Dallas. The enterprise, which was on solid footing to begin with, had grown even more profitable. Dan, his staff and command experience helping a great deal, proved to be a valuable addition to the firm. But for a while, the ex-captain followed the routine of his old army life: He worked hard and steady, while drinking harder and faster. It looked for a while like he’d coast on down to a relatively early death, and leave his money to his nephews and nieces.
But then he met Emma Meadows.
She was a wealthy widow whose husband had worked with Dan’s brother on several deals. Dan, when introduced to her at a Sunday social, found her a buxom, attractive woman. At first she was quite distant and cold to him due to his dedication to liquor. His reputation as a bon vivant around the best of the city’s saloons was well known. When his premier efforts at establishing a rapport of sorts were rebuffed, he decided to sober up a bit and see what would happen in their relationship.
What happened was that Dan Wayne quit the bottle and got married.
The ancient cavalryman liked the life. A sensible wife to keep him on the straight and narrow was just what he needed. They both prospered by using Dan’s new business connections and growing bank account with her considerable money. True, Dan Wayne got a lot thicker around the waist than he had been in his cavalry days, but physically and mentally he was in much better shape.
Now, slipping the jaunty derby on his head, he turned and walked to the front door where Emma awaited to bid him goodbye. “I’m off, my dear,” Dan said. “It looks like another brisk turn of business today.”
Emma smiled and kissed him. “Don’t be late for supper. Olivia promised us roast beef and pinto beans.”
“Mmm! I can taste it already,” Dan said returning the kiss. “Until later, my love.” He went through the door, crossed the immense front porch of his large home and walked down to the curb where his carriage waited.
“Good morning, Cap’n Wayne,” the driver greeted.
Everyone insisted on using his old army rank. It was really Emma’s idea, so he didn’t mind, although sometimes he wished his military career had been successful enough that he could be called “Major” or even “Colonel.”
“Good morning, Ed,” Dan greeted as he bounded up into the passenger’s seat with a springy step.
The horse and carriage clacked off down the bricked road of Dallas’ most exclusive residential section. They went around a corner and down two blocks as they always did. When Ed brought the vehicle to a halt, Dan got out and crossed the sidewalk to enter a gate. He went up to the front door of the house there and pulled on the bell.
The door was opened by a maid dressed in starched white and somber black. “Good morning, Cap’n Wayne,” she greeted. “Please to come in, sir.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Tate,” he said cheerfully. When he’d left Fort Alexander, he had never expected to see Sergeant Tate’s wife again, especially as a widow. “I assume they’re at the breakfast table.”
“Yes, sir,” Martha Tate said. “And waitin’ for you as usual.”
“I know the way,” Dan said. He visited the home on almost a daily basis. He went into the dining room. “Hello! Hello!” he said.
Guy DuBose pulled his watch from its place in his trouser pocket. “Oh! Sorry, Dan. I didn’t know it was so late.”
“Quite all right,” Dan said. “There’s no rush this morning.”
Pauline DuBose smiled at him. “Would you care for a cup of coffee, Dan? Martha will fetch you one.”
“Don’t mind if I do, my dear,” Dan said. He glanced at Guy. “Go ahead and read your paper.”
“I’m almost finished with this article,” Guy said. “It’s most interesting. Lame Elk and several of his warriors are being sent to prison in Florida.”
“Mmm,” Dan mused. “No more resting between raids eating government beef at the Red River Agency, hey?”
“I guess not,” Guy said. “As a matter of fact, he never returned there after the—” He glanced around to see if Martha Tate was close by. Guy always avoided speaking of the massacre of Company C where Harry Tate had died if she were near. “As I was saying, Lame Elk stayed on the run after what happened to the company. He was finally brought in a couple of weeks before my discharge from the army. The government has been trying to decide what to do with him since.” He folded the newspaper and set it aside. “Those Chogolas will die in prison, of course. If being caged doesn’t do it, then the Florida weather will.”
Martha Tate came in the dining room with a fresh pot of coffee. She poured a cup for Dan. “I can remember when Mr. DuBose and my men drank this stuff with sutler’s whiskey in it.”
“I do too,” Guy said smiling.
“Say!” Dan said suddenly remembering. “We’ve got a wedding to go to Sunday, don’t we?”
“Yes,” Martha said smiling. “I’m so glad Laura Lee ain’t marrying no soljer.” She gazed fondly at the people seated around the table. “And we’re plumb honored y’all are attending.”
“We’re one family, Martha,” Guy said. “We grew close under very trying circumstances.”
“That’s for sure, Mr. DuBose,” Martha said. “If anybody wants more coffee, just sing out.” She left the room.
Dan was deep in thought for several moments. “It’s strange, but, even after fighting them for years and what happened to my friends in Company C, I never developed a passionate hatred toward the Indians.”
“They were defending themselves,” Guy said. “It’s the old historical adage. They had something that some other group of people wanted who were stronger and more numerous—the Indians’ land.”
Pauline, with the personal tragedies of the Civil War as fresh in her heart as when they happened, nodded sadly. “Perhaps the day will come when we mortals will be able to overcome our problems without war.”
“I doubt that,” Guy said. He and Pauline had been married shortly after his release from military service. If her marriage so soon after her husband’s death shocked anyone who knew about it, the couple didn’t care. As far as Guy and Pauline were concerned, they had waited twelve long years. Any more passage of time in bringing their love to fulfillment seemed useless cruelty to themselves.
“I fear I must agree with your husband, Pauline,” Dan said. “Man will continue fighting man to the end of this miserable planet’s existence.” He turned his glance toward Guy, noticing the cane hanging on the ex-sergeant’s chair. “Has the new doctor been any help with your feet?”
“He certainly has,” Guy said. “I’m lucky I didn’t either lose them or die of gangrene. Some of the burns went pretty deep. I suppose I shall always limp a little. It can’t be helped.”
“Please!” Pauline said. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Of course,” Dan said kindly. He changed the subject. “I hear the merchant association is taking the north tract.”
“I’m having the papers finalized today,” Guy answered. “That will be a profitable little deal.”
“Little—little?” Dan asked taking a healthy gulp from his cup of coffee. “Say, Guy! For a couple of former cavalry soldiers, you and I have been doing mighty good for ourselves with these Dallas slickers.”
Guy nodded. “Yes. In another year we’ll be right up there with them.”
“We’re almost there now,” Dan said sipping the coffee. “By the way, are you going to hang on to those acres you picked up on the Saunders contract?”
“I had to take them as part of the agreement,” Guy said. “And I don’t think I’ll be able to sell that land to anyone.”
“I guess not,” Dan said. “The ground there is reeking with all that petroleum gunk. Who wants that?”
Guy shrugged. “I wonder what my heirs will say when they inherit the deed.”
Dan laughed. “They’ll think ol’ grandpa got took.” He finished his coffee. “Ready to go?”
“Sure am,” Guy said. He motioned to Pauline to sit down when she started to stand up. “I don’t want you doing any unnecessary moving around in your condition.”
Pauline sighed. “Guy, I didn’t break a leg. I’m only having a baby.”
“Just the same,” he said. Guy, leaning a bit on the cane, limped around and got his goodbye kiss. “See you tonight.”
The two men made their way through the house to the door. Dan stopped on the steps and pointed to the clear, blue sky. “That’s the sign that this year’s summer is going to be a dandy.”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Guy said setting his hat on his head. “It’ll be a hell of a lot better than last year.”
Dan, knowing the full story of Guy’s last months in the army, broke into loud laughter. “Come on, soldier-boy. Let’s go make some money!”